Monday, February 2, 2009

From The Project

“Finished,” he said, dropping the hood and startling me with its clang. I hadn’t realized my car was so heavy, could make so much noise. I never knew it could sound that authoritative. Whenever I got behind the wheel, I felt vulnerable. It was one of those feelings that had no logic and was all that much more powerful for the fact.

“Already?” I’d wanted it to take a while, longer, all afternoon. All week I’d lived for this moment. Even as I was with someone else, I could only think of Adam’s fingers, capable and assured, fixing my car, his grin as he saw me pull up.

“Not that hard.”

The tears came from a place I’d never been, a midday lightning storm from a Caribbean sky. It was this easy for another person to support you, to help you. It was this simple for one person to make a difference in another’s life.

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About Me

I'm a writer and performer in Berkeley, Calif. I'm married to a big Jew nose and together we have two gorgeous dogs and the afterlife of a beautiful cat. I am represented by Miriam Altshuler of Miriam Altshuler Literary Agency. Life is good!